


diazepam

by tinydots (sithanakin)



Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Drug Withdrawal, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Esteem Issues, Strangers to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, bc we want noel to have that sweet sweet serotonin, noel is v depressed in this but i promise he gets better, the fic is about how he's going to get better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithanakin/pseuds/tinydots
Summary: He’s struck by how sitting on the edge of this building makes him feel the exact way being with Cody does, as if he’s Icarus; simultaneously soaring higher and hurtling to his death.
Relationships: Cody Ko/Noel Miller
Comments: 21
Kudos: 64





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> first tmg fic and i can't believe it's going to be an emo one... but when we feel the depression in this household, we write the depression lmao
> 
> but srsly, all jokes aside, please don't read this fic if you think you'll be triggered by it!
> 
> this fic references:  
> \- self-medicating with alcohol (kind of)  
> \- medicinal drug use  
> \- negative thinking habits  
> \- suicidal thoughts  
> \- depression in general (and later anxiety)
> 
> title and actually the skeleton of the plot comes from the song diazepam by turnover

Noel sits, uncomfortable and numb. The tie around his neck feels like a noose, but the only thing that keeps him from pulling it right off is the weight of Cody’s hand in his. Cody’s jittery, nervous, and Noel thinks this is the one thing he can do for Cody, just this once, to be the one that keeps it together.

Cody needs him, and all Noel wants is to be good enough.

✧✧✧

Noel always knew he was gay, but no part of him thought he’d end up falling in love with a laidback, polite white boy from Canada. In fact, all through high school, Noel snorted at the idea of people like Cody — the Call of Duty playing white boys that had parents that doted on everything they wanted, who had everything they could possibly ask for. Noel always knew that distaste came from a place of resentment, that guys like Cody didn’t crave the validation of each and every person they looked up to. 

Noel thought he’d end up with someone just like him: a little too depressed and anxious to be ‘normal’, someone who sits out on the periphery and isn’t adored by all. The runt of the litter. The one no one will miss in the end.

So, he keeps to himself, waiting to find the person he’d eventually settle for and live out some pay-check-to-pay-check life. At least, until some unexpected heart condition would strike, and he’d die on the floor, choking on his own vomit. 

Even with that picture in his head, he always thinks he’ll be gone long before that. 

Noel is sure that if high schools had a ‘Most Likely to Kill Themselves’ title, Noel would have won every single year — even when not nominated. He didn’t hide his self-loathing or lack of interest in anything geared towards the future. He did just enough to get into trouble yet not get suspended or expelled, he frustrated his mother with his evident skill but lack of effort. Still, what Noel liked most was that he sunk into the background. He wasn’t outstanding enough to warrant praise nor was he disruptive enough to burn into the memories of those around him, he was simply there. And one day, if he wasn’t there, no one would mind all that much. The only person who would truly remember him would be the guidance counsellor, the one who urged his mother to get him some medical help because of how worried she was about him and his lack of interest in anything other than not being around.

Ending his life wasn’t something that Noel actively sought, however. He simply didn’t have much of an attachment to living. 

And even that dulled penchant for death was probably only curbed by the medication he was put on before he even graduated. Being dosed up on Lithium from the age of seventeen seemed to be the only thing that kept him there, slightly vacant but _there_. And whilst that usually felt pointless, as if Noel was idly wasting his life away, he was simply too tired. 

Too tired to be depressed, too tired to do anything to fix his life, too tired to even try killing himself. 

Nothing was worth it. There was not a single thing he could hear or say that would fix things. He graduated high school, flunked out of college, and found himself populating an endless myriad of dead-end jobs.

Then, right when Noel was on the decline to some dark depth he’d never been to before — his therapist increasing the Lithium dosage to the very upper limit, and Noel not even taking a single pill of it — he met Cody. Bright, smiley, _happy_ Cody. 

Initially, Noel thought Cody was some frustratingly cute yet annoying guy at another party Noel was only at for the free alcohol. Nothing about the way Noel drank until his Lithium withdrawals had him vomiting in the dark back corner of some guy’s back garden seemed to radiate the energy that he wanted to be bothered. He wanted to feel the burn of vodka, then vomit, in his body, to feel anything but those constant headaches and hand tremors. He didn’t want his back rubbed and his face wiped by some concerned-looking poster boy of happiness.

Noel doesn’t remember what the first words Cody said to him were, but he wishes he did. If he wasn’t so fucked up, if he wasn’t so lost inside his own head, he would remember those words and they’d mean something to him. 

✧✧✧

Cody’s there when Noel wakes up, just scrolling on his phone and humming the repetitive jingle of some cringe-y cleaning product commercial. 

The first thing Noel can remember Cody saying is: “You passed out in the yard, we brought you in and let you crash out here. You were a little fucked up.”

Noel doesn’t speak, doesn’t feel like he needs to, because there’s something in the way Cody looks at him. Noel’s just a little too old for getting blackout drunk to be the result of inexperience; the only people his age who do that have either lost their tolerance after cutting back, or they do it to run away from something. And Cody knows, _he knows,_ as if he can read Noel’s mind, that it was intentional. He doesn’t say a single thing about that, though. Concern merely slips from his face and is replaced with a cordial smile. 

“I’m Cody,” he introduces himself, softening his expression slightly more when Noel responds with his own name.

And there’s something about Cody that Noel hates – or maybe just resents – because he’s not like Noel. His head hasn’t reduced him down to be a future corpse without a casket. Part of Noel’s brain likes it, he enjoys how much Cody makes him hate how he is and, therefore, himself. So, he gives Cody his number when he asks for it and tries not to retch when Cody sends some cheesy, smiling emoji to give Noel his number in return. 

✧✧✧

Noel’s therapist is young, a grad student in her last year. It’s all he can afford with his insurance and he likes her enough to feel slightly bad about skipping their sessions. Not enough to go regularly, but still feel a little guilty. 

“What’s new, Noel?” She asks, giving a slight smile, fiddling with the sheets of paper in her hands. “It’s been two months since our last appointment?”

“Yeah, sorry.” His head falls slightly. “Been busy.”

“Working a lot?” She probes and he shrugs. “Taking your meds?”

His lack of response speaks volumes; she doesn’t sigh, but Noel knows she wants to. 

The words of their first session ring loud in his head: _“This works best if you want to get better, so we can do this together. Part of the process is wanting things to get better.”_

✧✧✧

They don’t message or talk, not until a friend of some guy Noel works with throws a party and Noel rocks up three hours after the start time. Cody’s there, surrounded by guys dressed similarly to him, and he’s laughing. It’s carefree and sickens Noel with envy. Cody slots right in with them, all typical clichés of guys in their early-to-mid-twenties that move out to Venice Beach to achieve some far-fetched dream that they’ll probably never reach. Noel’s cynical. He knows it. He’s aware and is cognizant of the fact it’s one of those negative thinking habits his therapist mentions in their weekly sessions. But, he knows it’s true. Everyone in that room knows it’s true.

And there’s some abstract notion within him that hates the idea of Cody not getting everything he wants in life, that it’s okay if Noel gets nothing because it’s not like he deserves anything better than that. Cody, however, is untarnished by the grips of some horrific depression. In Noel’s mind, it’d be the cruellest thing if Cody didn’t get what he wanted, to end up like Noel.

But, he’s off Lithium, again. By his own choice, too. Preferring how alcohol takes the pain away and makes everything hurt at the same time. It’s not the right decision for his health, but it’s a decision. It’s something he can control, something he can decide for himself and dictate within his own brain.

Even then, as self-destructive as he is, he’s conscious of people cleaning up his messes. It does no good for his anxiety, the idea of someone having to do damage control because he was the idiot who mixed Lithium with alcohol.

So, he drinks, not as much as the last time, but enough to get his head lolling when Cody finds him.

He’s plied with water and tender words, coaxing him to sobriety and he follows that voice. Albeit, reluctantly. But there’s something in Cody’s gentleness and almost constant smile which feels so much better when the world isn’t tipping from side to side as if Noel’s seasick. It’s that part of his brain that stops him from seeking death that latches onto Cody and, for some absurd reason, tells Noel that this moment is incredibly romantic.

So, he leans in to kiss Cody. Then vomits in the little space between them. 

Cody laughs. So carefree and uncaring that vomits seeping in through the holes in his ripped jeans. Noel hates it. He hates it so much that he wishes he could kiss Cody.

✧✧✧

Noel hasn’t even thought of having sex with Cody until they’re actually doing it. It’s up against a damp outside wall that vibrates with every bass note in whatever song is playing. It’s fitting for Noel, to be fucking someone in the night blackened side walkway of a house that belongs to some guy he doesn’t know. The smell would be unbearable, too, if Noel could taste anything other than the cheap vodka he’d been taking long swigs of when Cody stumbled into his arms. Food waste that’d been sat under the heat of the southern California sun for goodness knows how many days had a particular odour to it. It repulsed Noel, but not as much as Cody drew him in.

Still, the best thing about being off his medication was that Noel could feel things. He got turned on and hard at the mere prospect of someone half attractive even paying attention to him, just like most other people his age. Cody wanting him did so much to him, to the point where his jeans were only part way down his thighs to fuck Cody into the grubby wall.

Part of him knows that Cody deserves better than that. That whatever kind of grimy build-up from the house’s exterior should stay away from Cody’s hair. Cody belonged in a bed covered in silk sheets with candles on every surrounding surface, casting even Cody’s brown hair into a gold shade to sit like a halo. He doesn’t deserve to be fucked against the wall by someone like Noel. 

But Cody’s pulling him closer, loving every moment of Noel fucking him until he cums, stammering Noel’s name and heaving air in and out of his mouth.

And someone better than Noel, someone more considerate and less eager for people to hate him, would have pulled out and finished somewhere a little more discreet. But Noel doesn’t, he cums inside Cody and manages to get cum on Cody’s pants and shirt as his cock smears against them on the way to being tucked into his underwear. Cody laughs and makes a joke that Noel snorts a little at, something about cum being better than vomit. 

If it had been anyone else, he would have left right after. But he feels like he shouldn’t, that leaving Cody there would only make it worse, that living with himself was already hard enough. He could not bear the thought of leaving Cody there; freshly fucked and vulnerable. Yet he didn’t feel like he should stay. The notion that he’s somehow tricked Cody into this, into thinking he’s good enough for Cody to kiss and touch, weighs so heavily on him. There’s no post-sex thrum of pleasure, only a disdain for what he’s done to Cody, as if he’s sullied something pure.

Noel should not have been the one Cody tilted towards to kiss gently, and he should not have been the person to tug Cody from the house, into an _Uber,_ and into the bed in his apartment. There’s still no silk or candles, but this time there’s a bed and all Noel can hear is the way Cody says his name. For a while, Noel can let go and not fixate on hating himself. It’s not perfect, they’re both drunk, but it’s better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!
> 
> hopefully i'll finish this some point in the next week but studying for an masters is literally the most soul destroying thing i've ever done lmao so who knows


	2. two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, uh, i planned for this to be in two parts but i've written too much already and i haven't even got to the scene i started this fic to write ... so it'll be three lmao. meaning that hopefully all the parts aren't too out of proportion !!
> 
> this is super unedited but it's half one in the morning and i'll do it when i wake up lmao
> 
> as with the last chapter, please look at the warnings in the tags. Still, this part heavily references:
> 
> \- suicidal thoughts  
> \- panic attacks  
> \- self worth issues

Hoping that Cody will still be there when he wakes up takes Noel by surprise. He usually rushes people out of his apartment, either filled with regret or disgust at himself for bringing someone into his only sanctuary. The sex is never an issue, any kind of reprieve is welcome, but it’s everything that comes after that. The awkwardness, the obligation to be cordial, when all he wants is to retreat back into being on his own again. His bedroom is like some inner sanctum that he wishes to keep purely for himself.

But with Cody, Noel doesn’t want to open his eyes and find his bed empty. He doesn’t think he could handle the all the thoughts that would ricochet around his brain if Cody isn’t there, haunted by the idea that he’s damaged, or destroyed, some part of Cody on the inside. He wants to see Cody in his bed, occupying space and still untarnished by whatever haunts Noel.

His eyes only flicker open when something touches his head, fingers running through his hair and gently brushing through the tangles clumped together by the gel and hairspray left over from the night before.

Cody is facing him, smile soft and eyes softer, and Noel’s entire chest tightens. It’s so affectionate, so beyond what he feels he deserves, but he doesn’t want it to stop. There’s nothing smothering about it, just a notion of tenderness passing from Cody to Noel. They hardly know each other beyond names, each other’s bodies and their vague, overlapping social circles, but it doesn’t feel foreign.

“You hungover?” Cody tries to whisper, but it comes out in a sleep-garbled mess that Noel finds himself smiling at. Cody clears his throat and tries again, sounding steadier when he utters: “Hungover?”

Noel nods, feeling as though his brain is bouncing off the walls of his skull as he does so. He’s dehydrated and hungry, yet the heavy, liquid sensation of vomit sits so high in his stomach he fears it’ll come up, and he’ll vomit all over Cody for the second time since they met.

“I’m not feeling too bad. You go shower and I’ll just chill here.” Cody bends away from Noel, reaching around on the floor for something then lifting his jeans from the night before. Thinking Cody might just get dressed then leave, Noel scrambles to find something to say, anything to make Cody stay a little longer.

“You’re my guest, man, you should use the bathroom first.” He doesn’t sound desperate to his own ears, nor does Cody look overly affronted by the response. Rather, Cody puts his jeans back to the floor when he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

It’s a small thing but it’s relieving. It probably shouldn’t be. But, there’s no strange silence or shuffling for clothes to put over once sweat-soaked and cum-soiled bodies. A voice in Noel’s head tells him that it should be uncomfortable and leaving them both feeling dirtied. But, it doesn’t. It’s so absurd to Noel that it’s like this, that the indifference he normally has after fucking someone isn’t there. All he can do is look at Cody and wonder why.

Like a cat, Cody stretches a little then relaxes back onto the mattress with his phone in hand. “Nah, I kind of want to lay here a little longer, just chill for a bit. You shower first, then you can just leave it running and I’ll jump in. Rather than, you know, do that awkward thing where you don’t know how to work someone else’s shower the first time you stay over.”

He knows he’s thinking far too deeply into things, that it’s probably just some form of politeness, but Noel can’t shake the idea that Cody wants to shower second because he doesn’t want to wash away whatever was left from the night before. Noel’s craving for validation mutates so much of how he interacts with others that it’s such a fixed point. He jumps ten stages ahead, overthinking everything. Even when he’s in the shower, he’s thinking of how Cody said, _‘the first time you stay over,’_ as if he’ll be there more than once. And, how he wanted to stay in Noel’s bed for longer, laying exactly where Cody had clung to Noel when he came for the second time.

Noel does leave the shower running and does everything to distract himself when Cody’s getting out of the bed, not wanting to stare and ruin whatever strange calm has befallen Noel’s apartment. He dresses and tidies up the spaces on top of his dresser and windowsills, making things a little more presentable in the daylight. Depression makes Noel lazy, but the anxiety has him fretting that Cody will think he’s disgusting because he left an empty can of Coke on his bedside cabinet.

He picks up the clothes from the floor, putting his own in his dirty washing hamper and lingers when he gets to Cody’s. He can see the stains of his cum soaked in and dried, almost unmistakable in appearance. And it’s instantaneous, that vehement dislike for himself and how even the small things he does seem to fuck over other people.

The only solution he can think of is to put Cody’s clothes into the hamper alongside his own and offer Cody something he could possibly wear. That only brings about another problem, Noel doesn’t have many sets of clothes, too anxious to go out shopping and too depressed to wash his clothes regularly enough for there to be a steady turnover of clean items in his wardrobe. He takes off his own clothes, knowing they’re clean, and digs around in the lump of dirty washing for something that at least appears clean and he can douse it in deodorant to cover whatever smell might be there.

He’s redressed and fiddling with his hair in a mirror when Cody appears with a towel around his waist. Before he can speak, Noel turns to look at him and say, “You can wear what’s on the bed… Your stuff, it was dirty, and I need to do laundry anyway, so I just threw it in shit I need to clean.”

“Oh, thanks,” Cody smiles. “I’m glad you’re not some asshole that would make me walk around in clothes that make it look like I came all over myself…”

Noel tries to smile, but it’s difficult because all he wants to say is ‘ _I’m the asshole that got cum on your clothes in the first place.’_ He doesn’t want Cody to hate him, so he keeps the comment to himself, turning back to the mirror to try and do something with his hair.

“Didn’t realise your hair’s wavy,” Cody comments, as if he’s known Noel beyond a few meetups at parties, and Noel catches his gaze in the reflection. “It looks nice like that with the little curls and wavy bits, makes you look softer. Cuter.”

Noel’s not fourteen anymore, blushing whenever some cute boy would compliment him for some small thing about his appearance, but knowing that Cody’s looking at him, it flushes him with a little pink across his cheeks.

“I like it gelled. It adds an inch,” Noel shrugs in return with his head dipped down slightly. He hears Cody laugh slightly and can’t help but look at him.

Cody’s smiling again, eyes soft and cheeks slightly rounded, “Well, I’m not exactly towering over you, so it’s okay if you don’t for today.”

And Noel likes that, likes the idea of spending the day with Cody. It’s the best thing he’s heard all week.

✧✧✧

“It’s good to see you again, Noel,” his therapist greets with a gentle shake of their hands. “So soon after our last appointment, too.”

“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I guess.”

“How are things going?” She probes with a soft hum, fiddling with some paper in her hands.

She hands them over to him, along with a pen, and he begins to fill out the _‘On a scale of one-to-ten’_ questions. The questions vary from sheet to sheet but they always ask him the same things: how numb he feels inside, if he has any hope for the future, if he’s comfortable in public, if he’s thought about hurting himself, if he’s considered suicide, and if he’s been sleeping properly. He hates filling them out, even if they don’t take too long, he hates putting a numerical figure on what’s going on inside him. It makes it too real; it externalises it and it shows him how sick he truly is.

His therapist speaks lightly about how she spent her weekend until he’s finished, and she asks him about his whilst she scans over what he’s put down.

Noel doesn’t look at her, he looks down at his own hands and how they’re clasped together instead. “I went to a party.”

“What was it like? Were you anxious?” She never takes notes in their sessions, Noel lets her record them with a little taping device for her to listen back to when they’re done, so he looks at the little red light when he thinks of how to answer.

“It was okay… I was too drunk to be anxious.”

She lets a pause drift between them before tentatively asking, “Had you been taking your medication before you drank?”

There’s no answer he can give that doesn’t make him hate himself, they are both aware of that. His medication is strong, both his anti-depressants and the Lithium top-ups for it interact terribly with alcohol, but there’s a reason why it’s so strong. He’s meant to be taking it because there’s something chemically unstable in his head, and he’s not supposed to be drinking. No matter what he responds with, she’ll reiterate how terrible of a choice it was.

It won’t be harsh, but it’ll be a reprimand.

“No, no meds,” he confesses. “I just needed a drink after our last session and I didn’t want to be that person that mixes shit, you know? It’s dumb to do to everyone else and they shouldn’t be wasting their time on my shit.”

“I’m glad you managed to drink safely. But, I really do have to stress how important it is that you take this medication, okay? We discussed this when the doctor was here to sign off on your prescription, so I’m not going to repeat all of it, just the most important part.

“Your medication is just a helping hand for your brain, for it to make those connections to make the right chemicals be produced and end up in the right places. They help with the symptoms whilst we tackle the causes and how you handle your health in our sessions.”

“I just hate how they make me feel when I take them. I don’t feel like myself and I don’t want people around me to see someone who isn’t really me.”

“That’s how the Lithium works, it’s one of the nastier side effects. But, the Lithium is short-term until we see enough improvement in how you can handle things on medication, then down to _Prozac_ on its own.” She’s right, Noel knows she is, but he still hates it with everything inside him. He just wishes he was normal; he wishes he was someone like Cody who didn’t need to ply himself with pills that fuck with his head to be able to function. His therapist looks hopeful, though, and Noel listens to what she says next. “If we keep up steady treatment, we can gradually get you off the antidepressants and to a place where you can confidently be yourself and know you have the tools to help with your anxieties and low moods.

“The dosages are temporary, but they’re part of a longer-term solution. We can bring you to a place, Noel, where your treatment can slow then stop.”

✧✧✧

Cody’s so beautiful when he smiles, and Noel wishes he had the words to verbalise it. But anxiety has him chewed up on the inside, too jittery and lightheaded to say anything much at all. Noel doesn’t fit in with this crowd, with this cluster of energetic men Cody calls his friends, and he’s hyperaware of himself stood amongst them. Rationally, he knows it is kind of dumb. Cody’s friends are obnoxiously loud, but they treat Noel as if he’s always been there and is part of the group. Yet that voice in his head keeps telling him that he doesn’t belong.

He doesn’t know any of their inside jokes, he doesn’t know all of their names and nicknames, and he barely has a thing in common with most of them. He’s only there because of Cody and he knows they’re only being like this because Cody would have said something. He resents himself for putting himself so far out of his comfort zone, rather than just saying no. He’s so fixated on the idea that Cody will hate him and think he’s selfish if he says no to anything, and he wants to badly for Cody to like him.

He’s quiet around these guys, not the person he likes being in a group, but there’s not much more of an option for him. He’s taken his medication for the day, he’s not had a single drop of alcohol, and he’s so on edge that Cody’s smile is the only good thing around him. He thinks he’s doing okay. He thinks he’s scraping through the situation, but he feels so bleak inside. Cody is so perfectly in his element, chatting and messing around with his friends, and all Noel can do is watch him. He wishes he was like that. He truly longs to fit in and radiate all of the magnetic charisma that Cody does.

Watching Cody makes Noel hate himself for a plethora of reasons. He doesn’t deserve to be the person that Cody tentatively introduces to his friends and he despises the fact that he feels that way. He knows he should at least have some positive value of himself, but he doesn’t feel like he does. He feels so incredibly worthless stood amongst Cody’s friends. And that’s all whilst knowing there must be something good enough about him, if he’s managed to get someone like Cody’s attention.

He stands there, torn between being happy that Cody wants him there and despising himself for not wanting to be there.

For a moment, everything suddenly sounds like Noel’s underwater, causing a blind panic to surge through him. His heartrate picks up and there’s an urge in his chest to breathe quickly, to escape and find somewhere to hide himself away. It’s just noise and light and adrenaline in all of his senses. He can’t speak and he loses a grip on himself. He knows he must be sweating, the kind that’ll turn cold on his skin the moment it forms. It’s happening in public, in front of all these people. In front of Cody. That thought exacerbates everything and he tries not to choke on his own tongue as the tunnel vision truly sets in.

He can barely feel his hands and doesn’t notice the pressure of someone holding his wrist, tugging him away from the group. He can see the world move, the way the house’s interior morphs into an outdoor space that’s darker and less densely packed with people. Not even the cooling evening air helps soothe Noel’s burning skin. He’s sweating and numb, but he can see Cody stood before him.

There’s a red Solo cup against his lips soon after they stop moving, cold liquid touching Noel’s upper lip and making him gasp, letting water rush into his mouth. It’s not enough to choke on but he swallows involuntarily, drinking it. The cup doesn’t move until Noel’s taken a few long gulps of the water, cooling him from the inside out and forcing him to focus on something other than the raw panic inside him.

It feels like a quiet moment, even if Noel can still hear people chatting and laughing over the thudding music playing inside. It feels quiet because all he can truly sense is Cody’s presence; he can hardly get a grasp on himself but the feeling of Cody’s hand on his wrist and his worried countenance is grounding enough.

Noel’s breathing is back to normal by the time Cody’s encouraging him to take the cup for himself, but still holding onto Noel’s wrist with a gentle grip.

Cody’s hesitant when he queries, “What was that?” and Noel doesn’t have the energy to lie.

He manages to croak out a short, weak sounding, “Panic attack,” with a shaking hand bringing the cup back to his lips.

“They happen often?” 

The answer comes from Noel as a shrug, giving Cody something to interpret for himself. And Noel’s insides feel a little more crushed when he sees Cody’s expression. He looks so concerned, even under the dim light of the patio area, and Noel wants him to not care so much. If Cody cares too much, he’ll see how fractured and frayed Noel is on the inside, but Noel wants to give Cody everything he wants. He doesn’t want to make Cody feel any of this negativity for himself.

“I didn’t know what happened, I just saw you go this shade of grey and knew something was up. I thought maybe you drank too much, so I brought you out here so you could, I don’t know, vomit in peace. But then you looked kind of like you were going to cry, so I did the thing my mom used to do when I couldn’t stop crying, I made you drink water because that helps you to regulate your breathing when it feels uncontrollable but I don’t know if that was the right thing to—”

“You thought I was gonna be sick?” Noel interrupts tilting his head and Cody lets go of Noel’s wrist, opting to hold Noel’s hand with their fingers interlaced. He doesn’t appear to care that Noel’s palms are slick with anxiety-induced sweat, so Noel tries not to mind, either.

“You already threw up on me once before, a second time in the splash zone wouldn’t be much different,” Cody points out and it’s such a stupid thing to say after such a serious moment, but it’s just enough to lessen the pressure. It makes Noel snort out a laugh and Cody seem pleased with himself, proud to have made Noel crack like that.

And Cody looks even more satisfied when Noel leans in to kiss him, tasting the weak beer taste on Cody’s tongue and closing his eyes when Cody’s arms wrap around his neck to draw him in closer.

“Thank you,” he breathes against Cody’s lips for a moment, and he truly does mean it.

✧✧✧

Nothing feels better to Noel – not drinking, not getting high, not taking his medication – than when he’s in Cody’s bed. Especially on the nights when they don’t even have sex. They kiss and talk, learning more about each other with every word spoken, until Noel knows they’re in that grey area of not knowing if they’re in a relationship. Noel’s too wary of rejection to ask the question himself, so he lets things go on as they are. The way Cody looks at him and whispers his name chases away his paranoia.

He feels less hollow and transparent when he’s with Cody. He feels like he exists and that being _seen_ isn’t an entirely terrible thing.

Yet, despite the fact he wants nothing more than to cling to Cody and become addicted to the way it feels to be around him, Noel knows that’s not healthy. He’s had relationships like that before, when dependency skewed everything good into a poison that spiked whatever it is they had. He can be realistic with himself that Cody isn’t going to fix everything. Cody isn’t a cure, even if Noel’s head clears the moment Cody touches his skin. But Noel does take him as a sign.

Underneath everything that destroys Noel’s mind, Cody shines through and he embodies everything that can be awe-inducing in life. He’s evidence that not everything is as dark as Noel makes it out to be.

Not even the twisted voices in his head telling him that Cody’s pitying him can change the proof that joy truly exists within Cody.

✧✧✧

Being on edge, teetering on the edge of something big, means that even something so small and insignificant to others, like a phone call, puts Noel into a nigh-on catatonic state. The sight of Cody’s name on his screen, along with the vibration and noise of the call, already gets a negative response from Noel. They hardly ever call each other. It’s simply not their _thing._ Cody doesn’t like them because he says he doesn’t know what to talk about when he can’t see someone’s face and their reactions. Noel hates them because they make him anxious, too fixated on trying to not fuck something up that he usually does end up doing exactly that. They text, mostly, or message on whatever app they happen to be using that moment.

Therefore, Cody’s name and contact photo on Noel’s phone only hours after he’s got back from Cody’s place does something to him. It makes him panic enough that he freezes up and it rings through, most likely sending Cody to voicemail. He can hardly collect himself, so it’s a struggle to manage to to answer when Cody calls again, worried he’s done something wrong and this will be how Cody cuts him off. It’s the fact he’s calling, at this time of the night, and that they only saw each other earlier that day, which triggers a whirlwind of thoughts. If the chemicals in Noel’s brain would let him listen to rational thought, he would realise that even if it's not inconceivable that Cody could end whatever they have, it doesn’t fit with Cody's entire personality to do such a thing over the phone. And yet, he’s convinced himself as he slides his finger across the screen that this is the inevitable end of something positive in his life.

He braces himself for it when Cody speaks, _“Hey, I know we don’t do this but I… I didn’t know how else to talk about this. Messaging didn’t feel right, you know?”_

Noel’s entire body shakes and he holds air in his chest, not letting himself breathe because he knows if he does, he’ll cry, or a panic attack will take over.

_“It’s just… I… I found some pills on the floor and they’ve got your name on the prescription thingy. And I don’t, like, fully get what they are, but if they’re prescribed and you have panic attacks, they must be important, right? ”_

There’s this sensation that feels a lot like fracturing coming from Noel’s stomach and rising up through his spine, fractures forming over each and every one of his nerves. He can’t breathe, he can hardly speak, and Cody’s breathing coming through the earpiece of Noel’s phone only worsens the hell Noel’s brain has put him in.

Cody’s speaking again but Noel can’t hear a word of it. Small things, like speaking and remembering how to move his body, feel so far away from him, like it’s moving out of reach. He’s so inside himself that he feels trapped. He can’t escape from how anxiety cages him in like his entire being is a prison. He hates that this is normal for him, to the point where he knows his fear is arbitrary and nothing bad will truly happen, yet he still feels as though he’s going to die. 

He doesn't exactly know what Cody can hear from him. The garbled sounds that Noel’s brain perceives sometimes unscramble and he hears short snippets of sentences like: _“Noel, I just, I just want to know if you’re okay?”_ and _“I_ _'m here, just try to breathe.”_ Everything else is unintelligible but he tries to focus in on the sound of Cody's voice, to use it to ground himself, and it works just well enough to get him to the point where he feels as though he can speak.

Stuttering over his words, throat closed over and entire body aching, Noel barely manages to rasp out: “Cody, I—”

_“Shit, I’m coming over, okay? I’ll be like half an hour. I’ll bring the pills, I’ll be there.”_

The phone doesn’t cut off for a moment, meaning Noel can hear Cody rushing around and a car engine turning on before Noel’s phone beeps and silence falls. He stays in the same place, paralysed by the panic that’s running amok in his entire body. Noel tries so hard to reach some kind of calm place and he doesn’t feel like he can, he simply feels like he’s going to die. It feels like a heart attack. He knows it isn’t, but everything inside him is telling him that this is going to be the panic attack that kills him.

He knows that he won’t stop breathing and that his heart, most probably, won’t surge, overload, then suddenly stop in his chest. But it still adds to the anxiety, to the baseless, adrenaline-fuelled fear frenzy within him.

Cody has to call him eight times before he manages to answer and let Cody into the building and into his apartment. It’s difficult to feel like he’s part of his own brain again, he usually just pops a diazepam and sleeps. Now, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never had this happen before, no one’s ever been close enough and he’s never taken his meds regularly enough to start taking them out of his house.

He fears what’s to come.

Nothing has ever scared him more than Cody finding out he’s like this. That he’s so defective in the head that he has a drawer of pills designed to patch over the cracks that he and his therapist have to try and fill in.

Cody’s hands are on Noel’s cheeks the moment he’s within touching distance, checking him over so many times that Noel can only stare into Cody’s eyes. He looks close to tears, his fingers trembling against Noel’s cheekbones, with his bottom lip chewed up between his teeth.

“Are you okay? Noel, are you okay? You sounded so broken on the phone, I couldn’t just stay put when you sounded like that.” Cody’s thumbs stroke over Noel’s cheeks and Noel’s so happy that he can _feel_ that, that he just smiles. It’s probably watery and limp, but Cody looks a little less anxious himself. “I was so worried… I still am, but it’s easier when you’re in front of me.”

“You came?” Is all Noel can say and Cody nods.

“Of course, I did, how could I not? What kind of piece of shit boyfriend would that make me, if hearing you having a fucking panic attack on the end of the phone, didn’t make me want to break like a billion road laws just to be with you?”

Noel’s dumb brain, the part that clings to small things and magnifies them beyond reality, can only hear the word _‘boyfriend’_ coming from Cody’s mouth over and over again. His mouth, though, quakes and lets out a small noise before he utters: “No one’s ever come to me before.”

Cody’s trying to smile, despite his eyes showing nothing but heart ache for Noel, and a lone tear escapes from his left eye when he whispers: “Well, that’s why you have me now, dumbass, to come to you when you’re like this.”

✧✧✧

They talk for hours. Noel explains what’s wrong with him, trying so hard to not let Cody see the true depths of his despair. He doesn’t want to show that all too quickly. Still, with Cody listening, asking questions, and searching for answers with so much empathy that Noel’s never seen in someone else before, it’s difficult to not want to say it all.

He tracks a pattern through his life. He outlines the parts of his childhood he hasn’t repressed, reveals how dead-end all of his adult-life prospects are, and the part of his future where he dies in his own vomit because his heart gave out. It’s difficult to ignore how crestfallen Cody is, given the way his lower lash-line glistens almost constantly

When Cody rubs his arm and asks, “So the drinking… What you did those first few times we met… Was that all because of this?” Noel can sense what fills those pauses. Cody’s not dumb, he’s got enough emotional sense to see that, now Noel’s explained, how much of what he knows might be the result of some fully manifested destructive behaviour.

There’s a slight nod from Noel as an answer, and Cody’s lower lip wobbles. Noel’s instincts kick in, ones he didn’t know he had, and he’s enveloping Cody in his arms to rub his back and kiss his cheek.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Noel whispers into Cody’s ear.

“I’m not sad…” Cody promises, lips moving in soft wisps against the skin of Noel’s neck. “You didn’t deserve all of that and I’m just so relieved that you’re still here. You truly deserve to have something good, something in life to change the tide, and I’m going to be with you to find that.”

He doesn’t know how to tell Cody that he thinks he’s found it, so he kisses him like he loves him and hopes that says it all.

✧✧✧

Something shifts between them, as if Noel baring all, makes what they have more serious. The intimacy grows, not simply with sex, but in the way they touch each other outside of that. When Cody stops by to take Noel out somewhere for dinner, they hold hands and Cody develops a habit where he circles his thumb on any flat surface of Noel’s skin he touches. They kiss when lulls in conversations form, until one of them says something stupid and they’re giggling like they’re teenagers again. If Cody leaves unfathomably early in the mornings to get to work on time, he makes Noel breakfast and leaves it in the fridge, alongside a little serviette with two pills inside.

Cody doesn’t admit to it, but Noel knows he stays up on the nights when Noel’s working overtime to make up for whatever unpaid sick leave he’s taken, just to wait for Noel’s message saying he’s home safe.

It’s nothing Noel’s ever known before. He’s had relationships he thought were headed to something lifelong, however, this is so different to that. It scares him a little, to feel himself diving in too deep. It’s when he’s on the cusp of pulling back to save himself from the pain that Cody might leave him, that he reminds himself of his therapist telling him:

_“Sometimes, Noel, you have to believe that you can have good things, too. I know it feels as though you’re hardwired to believe something different, and we’ve talked about actively combatting those negative thinking habits but letting yourself pursue good things isn’t a terrible option.”_

✧✧✧

Cody going back up to Canada, at some point, was always preordained. It’s his home and where his family are, and whilst Noel doesn’t have that sense of home or family, he can see what it means for Cody. In this situation, Noel wanting Cody to stay more than anything, is selfishly motivated. He’s anxious that Cody will tell his family about him and they’ll be mortified to know what kind of person Noel is, then Cody will see how much better he can do than Noel.

He consistently tells himself that fixating on that thought is unhealthy, so he tries his hardest to avoid it. Especially since Cody offered for Noel to join him on the trip, to meet the family and cement something even more solid in their relationship.

Noel doesn’t really know why he said no, aside from the crippling anxiety of Cody’s family despising him for bringing so many dark thoughts to the vicinity of their shining, golden son. Plus, this is the first time in the eight months Noel’s known Cody for that Cody is even going home. He doesn’t want to intrude, to be the one that takes away Cody’s homecoming to his family.

It doesn’t feel right. The idea of that doesn’t sit right in his stomach.

Maybe it’s the consuming fear that Cody will realise what Noel truly is, but Noel wants to do _something_ to ensure that Cody comes back to him. It’s not a possessive or unhealthy feeling, just one that naturally comes with wanting to be with his boyfriend. It’s their first time apart, after so many months of seeing each other most days in the week.

So, Noel gets a key cut. He watches the drill bit carve out the shape of it around the shape of a template made from his own key. He keeps it with him until Cody’s leaving Noel’s apartment to go to the airport. He would go with Cody but they both agreed it’d be cruel for Noel to be subject to the roads around LAX.

The key is warm in Noel’s hand as he tries to figure out how to physically give it to Cody. He’s nervous, not in the usual anxious way, but it’s more apprehensive. It feels different, a good kind of different, and that only gets better when he manages to give the key over.

There’s a small look of confusion on Cody’s face before it morphs into a smile, one that’s small and gentle and makes Noel feels so incredibly in love that he thinks it’ll kill him. He’s leaning into the window of Cody’s _Uber,_ trying to tell him goodbye and that he can come over whenever he wants once he gets back, when Cody kisses the side of his mouth. Cody whispers a gentle, “I love you,” in Noel’s direction before the driver makes an impatient noise and Noel steps back..

Noel’s entire being swells with something unknown and he almost feels as though he could burst as he watches the car move away and disappear out of the parking garage. He stands, dumbfounded and overwhelmed, until all he can do is smile.

Never has he felt like this. He never expected to. It’s beautiful and enrapturing to the point that it doesn’t feel real as it courses through his veins.

It stays like that, his heart beating and whole soul alight with love, until he’s laid in his bed and Cody’s sent him a whispered voice note telling him to sleep well. Noel didn’t know that giving someone a key to his apartment, to his safe space, could feel so liberating. He’s sharing a part of himself and he’s being loved for it, he’s not being crushed and torn apart by tentatively opening his heart. And that stays with him, but only for a couple of days.

Then, the inevitable crash comes. He’s in the midst of another episode, taking sick days from work and letting everything pile up around him. Cody’s not close enough to unwittingly help pull Noel out of his slump, he’s so far away, and all that does is make everything worse. The good thing is gone, albeit temporarily, but that’s enough. His therapist gives him new techniques to deal with this spate of depression, only it feels like it’s getting worse.

He’s struggling to not be affected by his suicidal thoughts when he does have them. He wants to hurt himself, to be gone from the world, but he _can’t._

Before, he could lock his apartment door and there was the chance that no one could find him for months. He’d be a faceless and rotting body, slumped in whatever position he’d finally died in.

Now, he wonders if Cody will be the person to find him. No matter how he dies, Noel can’t stand the idea of doing that to Cody. He doesn’t know what it’ll do to Cody, doesn’t know if it’ll flip some switch in him that turns him into what Noel is now. Just thinking of that makes him sick and keeps him up at night. He doesn’t feel like he could find peace in death, if he considers how the sight of his lifeless corpse might break something deep within Cody. The thoughts of what Cody might do don’t come to him in dreams, it’s right in his mind on some endless reel the second he’s alone at night.

He sees himself from the outside and it’s always different. Sometimes his blood surrounds him, leaving him with a deathly pallor, and Cody’s knelt in it with blood on his hands, as he grasps at Noel’s body. Other times, he’s just fading away in Cody’s arms with Cody screaming his name so loudly that it’s the only thing he can hear when he dies. The worst is when Cody’s trying to save him, patching cuts on his wrists or sticking his fingers down Noel’s throat, and he realises he doesn’t want to leave Cody behind, but he’s too close to the end to come back. Noel cries on the nights when those thoughts haunt him. He doesn’t know what else to do. He knows he wants to die; he knows he wants to be done with it all, but he knows more than anything that Cody doesn’t deserve that.

Cody doesn’t deserve to see someone die. Not even someone as broken as Noel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty ty for reading!!!
> 
> my twt is @solaryifan and yes i sometimes post c-pop as well as tmg things, but sometimes i'm funny and/or informative (mainly about history/culture/art bc i'm an art historian)??? at least that's what my friends tell me anyway lmao
> 
> but tbh i just wanna engage with the tmg fandom a little more bc it seems so chill


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